Healing
Chapter 1
EARLY morning outside Ludington, Michigan, was the part of the day Len Parker liked best, before the heat built and before anyone was up, except maybe the horses, but he could tolerate them. They didn‟t give him pitying looks, and they didn‟t walk on eggshells around him like everyone else seemed to in the six months since Cliff died. The sun had barely risen when Len pushed open the barn doors, and large beautiful heads poked out of the stalls to see what was going on, their big eyes blinking like they were just waking up too. Len opened the treat barrel and gave each horse a scratch and a snack as he checked them over to make sure everyone looked bright and healthy. In other words, the exact opposite of how he‟d felt for what seemed like years. In the last stall, Len opened the door, saying good morning to the farm‟s latest colt, Tiger. Len gave the young horse a carrot and a light pat on the neck, receiving a nuzzle in response. “Yeah, you‟re happy today, aren‟t you?” Slipping a halter over the colt‟s head, Len led him out of the stall and into his pasture. The crisp fall air nipped at Len‟s skin as he watched the colt run and play before settling down to start his munching. Len looked at the sky, blue and clear, not a cloud in sight—a perfect autumn day.
After letting most of the horses out into their pastures, Len walked through the barn to the tack room, where he kept a small work area, and began making his notes for the day. The crops weren‟t quite ready to come in, but it would only be a few weeks and everyone would be damned busy from sunup to sundown, taking shifts on the tractor in order to ensure they got everything in. Once he had his list completed, Len posted it on the board in the room before walking to the one horse he‟d left in the stalls. Quickly and efficiently, Len brushed the chestnut gelding before saddling him and inserting a bit. He then walked the horse to the yard and closed the barn door behind him. Swinging into the saddle, Len clicked his tongue against his teeth and started off on the path toward the creek. The familiar trail looked the same as it always had as the trees thickened around him, their leaves now yellow, red, and orange, just beginning to fall onto the path. At the creek, Len turned automatically, walking the horse down the worn path to the familiar and very special clearing. Len hadn‟t been here in months—he hadn‟t been able to bring himself to come here. Dismounting, Len tied the reins to a stout tree and stood in the middle of the clearing. Memories washed over him, wonderful memories that he hadn‟t felt as though he would ever be able to recall without tears. It was in this spot that he and Cliff had first made love, outdoors, beneath some of these very same trees. This had been their spot for twenty years. Len closed his eyes and let the feelings from this place surround him. The very earth seemed steeped in the love they‟d shared, undiminished by time, just as Len‟s love for his partner hadn‟t faded just because Cliff had died. A slight breeze rustled the leaves, and for a split second, Len could hear Cliff‟s voice on the wind telling him to move on, that it was time. A tear rolled down Len‟s cheek, and he didn‟t stop it when another followed, but unlike the tears he‟d shed privately before, these were actually cleansing as he could allow himself to remember the times he and Cliff had spent together. Twenty years of loving, raising Cliff‟s son—no, their son—Geoff, now a man. Twenty years of happiness and fights that always seemed to end with one of them saying he was sorry and then often coming here, to this very
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spot, away from the house, the farm, and everything else to make it up to one another. For months, Len had gotten through the days by telling himself that Cliff had been in pain toward the end and that it was a blessing that, after months of battling cancer, Cliff had died peacefully and at home where he wanted to be. Those last few weeks had been complete agony for Len, and he knew Cliff had been better off once he was truly at peace. He‟d told himself that over and over, hoping he could believe it, when all he had wanted to do was scream and yell at the world. “Cliff, I was so angry at you for leaving me,” Len said out loud. “You were too young to die, and I‟m too young to spend the rest of my life alone, without you.” How many times had he told himself and God that it wasn‟t fair? Len had lost count, and he wasn‟t going to do that today. Life wasn‟t fair, he knew that. Hell, he‟d lived that for months. The breeze picked up again. “I‟m always with you,” it said in Cliff‟s rich voice and then died away again. Cliff was with him, Len could feel it now. He hadn‟t for the longest time, but he could now. Maybe he‟d just needed time, like everyone said, that and maybe a little perspective and distance. The horse snorted and pranced, pulling Len out of his daydream and back into the dappled shade of the clearing. He blinked a few times, looking around, half expecting to see Cliff standing nearby. He wasn‟t, of course, but Len could feel him there and that was enough to make him feel comforted. The horse nickered again, and Len walked to him, patting his flank lightly before once again listening to the sounds around him. The creek babbled over its stones, and the wind rustled the leaves once again. Wiping his cheeks on his sleeve, Len blinked a few times before untying his horse and stepping into the saddle. Turning the horse‟s head, he clicked his tongue against his teeth once again and started back toward the farm. In the barn, Len unsaddled Twilight before letting the horse loose in one of the paddocks. Then he returned to the barn, where he found the day‟s activities already beginning. Eli and Geoff were in side-by-side
stalls, talking to each other as they got their horses ready for their morning ride. A momentary sadness came over Len as he thought how much Geoff was like his father. Len needed something to do with his hands, so he grabbed a wheelbarrow and started mucking out one of the stalls. He‟d taken to doing that in the mornings. Most of the time it was just a single stall, but it helped clear his mind and stopped him from wondering and thinking too much. “Morning, Dad,” Geoff called as he walked his black horse, Thunder, by the stall. “You were up really early this morning. Are you okay?” Geoff stopped, and Thunder nudged Geoff forward impatiently. Geoff pushed back, and the horse calmed once Geoff reminded him who was boss. “Couldn‟t sleep, so I got up and went for a ride,” Len answered and went right back to work. He really didn‟t want to talk about it, and Len knew Geoff would understand. The clomping of horse‟s hooves on the concrete told him Geoff had moved on, and Len continued filling the wheelbarrow before wheeling the mess to the mulch pile. On his way back, he passed Eli walking his horse out into the yard. “Morning, Len,” Geoff‟s partner of six months called with a bright smile on his face. “Morning, Eli,” Len answered with more energy than he felt. “Do you have a class this morning?” “At ten. I have most everything ready,” Eli answered before mounting. Len pulled off his cap and waved it at the two of them as they started their ride. He saw them both wave back and heard the conversation and laughter fade as they got farther away. Placing his hat back on his head, he went back to work. As he finished the stall, Len heard tires crunch on the gravel drive outside, followed by the sound of truck doors closing and then footsteps on the gravel and into the barn. The tractor started with a deep rumble in the equipment shed. “Morning, Len,” Lumpy called from the doorway of the tack room, the list of tasks in his hand. “Pete‟s gonna get those last hayfields roll-
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baled before it rains. Where do you want us to put them when we‟re done? You said yesterday that we didn‟t need it.” “You can leave it in the fields. The Hansens are going to take it all. They enlarged their dairy herd, and he said he‟d be happy to take whatever we have. I‟ll call and tell him he can start picking up the bales in a few hours,” Len said, and he saw a curious look on Lumpy‟s face, like he wanted to ask something, but wasn‟t sure if he should. “I‟ll tell Pete and then get on the list.” Lumpy looked the sheet over. “I‟m gonna start with those fences, and I‟ll let you know if I find anything that needs fixing. See you this afternoon,” Lumpy added before walking out of the barn and getting to work. Len climbed the stairs to the full hayloft and opened the only trap door that wasn‟t covered by hay. Lifting a bale, he dropped it through the door to the barn floor below. “Len, I can get that for you,” a voice behind him said, making him jump. Len landed near the edge of the door and nearly lost his balance. Big hands caught his arm, pulling him back from the brink and against a hard, firm body before both of them fell against the stacked bales of hay, with Len caught between the hay and Chris, the hand Geoff had hired a few weeks earlier. The scent of fresh hay mixed with the smell of soap and man, and for a second Len remembered what it felt like to be held and went with it until his thoughts cleared. “You scared the shit out of me,” Len said, pulling away before storming toward the stairs. “It was an accident. Christ, I only came up to help. There‟s no need to take my head off!” Chris retorted louder than was needed, and Len heard the whap and thump as a bale was flung to the floor below. Len descended the stairs in a huff. He wasn‟t angry with Chris, not really. It was his reaction whenever he got close to the man that kept throwing him. At the bottom of the stairs, Len stopped. He could hear Chris moving around, heavy footsteps stomping on the loft floor, the thump of the bales as they fell with more force than necessary, but more than anything he could see the man‟s chiseled face and bright, intelligent eyes, which
looked as though they‟d seen things Len could never understand. Chris also had a body that had seen hard physical work for years. Chris appeared to be nearing fifty, the way Len was, but Chris didn‟t look like any other fifty-year-old Len had ever seen. Not that it mattered. Len was not going to find out if the muscles beneath Chris‟s flannel shirt were as large as they looked, or if that glimpse of dark hair that sometimes peeked over the top of his shirt extended further. That was not going to happen. Len pushed the images out of his mind as he stomped out of the barn toward the house, figuring he might as well make breakfast. It would give him something to do, and everyone would be hungry in an hour or so. The door banged closed behind him as he entered the house and walked right into the kitchen. Washing his hands, Len got to work. He wasn‟t in the mood to make an elaborate breakfast, so he pulled out a dozen eggs and began cracking them into a bowl before pulling out a frying pan and filling it with sausage patties. Scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast made from Eli‟s fresh bread would have to do for today. Ten minutes later, Len heard the back door open, and Eli joined him in the kitchen. “Do you want some help?” “No, I‟ve got it. Could you call the guys and let them know breakfast is in five minutes if they want it hot?” Len asked, and Eli hurried outside again while Len finished cooking. In almost exactly five minutes, what sounded like a stampede of men came in the back door. How three men and a teenager could make so much noise was beyond him, but they did. Eli and Geoff sat at the table. Joey washed up at the sink, and then Len heard footsteps go into the bathroom. Len hadn‟t seen Chris, but he knew that it was him, he could just feel it. Dishing up the food, he brought it to the table while Geoff set out the plates and flatware, and Eli got juice and milk. Once everything and everyone was situated, the five of them sat down to eat. “After I get the rest of the stalls cleaned out, will you be able to work with me?” Joey asked Len with his mouth half full of eggs. Len had been giving Joey riding lessons in exchange for chores around the farm. Len knew that Geoff paid Joey for his work, regardless
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of the lessons. Joey lived with his mother, and he‟d always worked hard. Hell, he was almost one of the family. He spent almost as much time at the farm as he did at home, and he probably ate as many meals at their table as he did at his mother‟s. Len also knew that Joey was gay, and if as a gay teenager, he felt comfortable on the farm, then that was fine with him. “Once Eli is finished with his class, you saddle up Sadie, and I‟ll work with you for an hour or so,” Len answered, and he received a smile from Joey in return. Geoff and Eli talked about their plans for the day, and Len half listened as he concentrated on his plate, eating as fast as he could without appearing to shovel it in. He could almost feel Chris‟s eyes on him, and he was bound and determined not to look back. Chris and Joey talked about nothing, and once Len was done he got up from the table, carried his plate to the sink, and began to clean up. The others began to finish up and brought their dishes as well. “That was good, Len, thank you,” he heard Chris say from behind him as he placed his plate on the counter. Len could feel him standing just behind him, as though Chris were waiting for something. Then he heard footsteps as the man walked away, and Len breathed a small sigh of relief. The others headed out as well, and Len turned back to the table to take care of the last of the cleanup and saw Geoff staring at him. “Dad, what‟s wrong? You were downright rude to Chris, and you never act like that. Not to anyone. I get that you don‟t like him, but what I don‟t understand is why. He‟s a nice guy, and he works hard.” Len really didn‟t have an answer, at least not one he wanted to share with Geoff, so he turned back to the sink and ran the water to clean the pots and pans. “Why is a guy his age working here, anyway?” “He‟s the same age as you, and you work here,” Geoff said, and Len could hear a hint of teasing in his voice. “What‟s his age got to do with anything?” “It just seems strange to me. He seems a little old to be a farmhand. Most of the guys we have were raised on a farm, but he wasn‟t.” That was
for damned sure. Chris was a hard worker, but he didn‟t know his way around a farm at all. “You know he just got out of the Marines. Retired with thirty years of service,” Geoff began, and he pushed a chair away from the table with his foot so Len would sit down. “He told me he needed some peace for a while.” Geoff sipped his coffee, and Len poured himself another cup and sat down across from Geoff. “If Chris has been in the Marines for the last thirty years,” Geoff continued, “then you can imagine the things he‟s seen throughout his career. He didn‟t tell me, and I didn‟t ask, but just by looking in his eyes you can see he‟s haunted by something. I was sort of hoping that he might open up to you, but I can see I was probably wrong about that.” Geoff looked disappointed, and Len knew he was the cause, but Chris made him feel things he wasn‟t sure he was ready to feel. But Geoff was right, Chris did work hard, and if what he needed was some peace in his life, Len could sure understand that. “I‟ll try, Geoff,” Len said, getting up from the table and away from the sad-puppy look Geoff was giving him. Even when he was a kid, Geoff would use that look to get anything he wanted from Len. Not that Cliff had been any less of a pushover. Len heard Geoff set his mug on the counter. “I know you miss Dad. I miss him too, and you‟re allowed to grieve all you want, but maybe helping someone else will help.” A sudden swell of anger welled inside him, and Len whipped around, scattering water and dish soap around the kitchen. “Is that what I am, some sort of project?” “No, Dad,” Geoff answered levelly, walking toward the door, ignoring the mess on the floor. “You‟re not the only one who loved him and misses him, is all I‟m saying.” There was such a note of sadness in Geoff‟s voice that Len wanted to hurry over and comfort him like he had when he was small, but before Len could move, Geoff was gone, the door banging closed behind him.
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Len finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen before walking into the living room to sit down. He hadn‟t slept well in months. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cliff, and most of the time it was how he looked toward the end. Len was always happy to wake up from those dreams. Sometimes, though, he dreamed about him when they were young. Those were good nights, and when he woke, Len almost always wanted to punch the pillow, his disappointment so strong that the dream wasn‟t real. Sitting in his chair, Len reclined until the footrest came up. The house was quiet, and Len looked around the room. The walls were filled with pictures. He and Cliff had taken tons of them the entire time they were together, and Len had framed some of them. His eyes settled on an old photograph of Geoffy on his first pony, Strawberry, with Cliff and him smiling back at the camera. He couldn‟t even remember who took the picture, but he could remember that moment like it was yesterday: Geoffy‟s fifth birthday party, the yard full of happy children, and Geoffy‟s squeal of delight when he saw Strawberry for the first time. He let his eyes wander. There were pictures of Geoff as he got older, and pictures of the three of them standing in front of horses, tractors, or just around the farm. Getting up, Len lifted one of the pictures off the wall. It was of Cliff, just Cliff, taken about a year before his diagnosis. His eyes were still so bright, and his smile just like Len remembered from high school. “I miss you,” he said very softly before hanging the picture back on the wall. Sitting back down, Len closed his tired eyes. He must have dozed off because the back door snapping closed made him jump and he heard heavy footsteps on the kitchen floor. “Len.” “I‟m in here, Chris,” Len answered, not sure he was happy to have Chris seeing him sitting around in the middle of the day. Straightening up in the chair, Len stood up as Chris walked into the room. “Geoff said to tell you that Eli‟s class is about done and that Joey is ready for you. He and Henderson are out taking a look at the fields to determine when to start harvesting.” Chris‟s expression was all business, like he was expecting Len to still be angry with him, but all the anger and
frustration Len had felt earlier in the day had leeched away. Now he was just tired. “Thank you. I‟ll be out in a few minutes. Tell Joey we‟ll be going for a trail ride, and we can go as soon as I get my horse saddled.” “I think Joey already did that for you,” Chris supplied, his eyes wandering to the pictures on the wall. “Is that Cliff?” he asked, indicating the picture Len had rehung on the wall. “Yes. He died of cancer about six months ago,” Len answered, and Chris nodded his head slowly. Len got the feeling he understood what Len was going through. “How long were you together?” Chris asked rather softly. “Twenty years. Geoff was two when we got together. I can still see both of them. Cliff was always a bit of a hothead, but there was never any doubt that he loved both Geoff and me.” Len sighed and stopped talking. “I know you miss him. It shows on your face. Hothead or not, he must have been a wonderful man.” Len saw Chris swallow hard, and then he turned and left without saying another word, the back door closing with a crack. Len sighed before getting his light jacket and heading out toward the barn. Joey had indeed saddled both horses, and Len led his out into the yard where Joey was waiting for him. “Are you ready?” Len asked, and Joey nodded his head excitedly as Len mounted the horse. “Then let‟s go.” Len led the way down the trail that took them along one of the fields and out around the college across the street. They would have to cross the road eventually, but the trail was nicely cleared and groomed, so they wouldn‟t have to worry too much about pitfalls. “Let‟s work on your trot,” Len told Joey, and he watched as the teenager spurred his horse a little faster. “How‟s school?” Len asked once they‟d slowed again and were riding side by side. “It‟s going good. Mom‟s happy with my grades,” Joey answered.
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“Okay, but are you happy with your grades?” That was one of the things Len had found with Geoff. He and Cliff had always been proud of how well Geoff did in school, but Geoff had never been happy with anything less than a stellar performance. “Not really, but I‟m trying my best, and I‟m working hard,” Joey answered cautiously. “As long as you‟re doing your best. That‟s all anyone can ask,” Len said. “Chris helped me with a report last week, and I got an A on it.” Joey seemed proud. “I had to write a report for history class. Mr. Jennings handed out the topics, and I got the first Gulf War. Some of the other kids got cool battles in World War II and the Civil War.” “So you were disappointed,” Len supplied as he signaled for Joey to stop. Len carefully checked the street and then spurred his horse across, with Joey right behind him. “Yeah, at first. I was talking about it with one of the guys from school when Chris came to Eli‟s class two weeks ago, and he must have overheard because he said he‟d help me. He was a Marine, you know, and he was there in the desert. He told me what it was like, how hot it was, and the sand getting into everything.” Joey sounded so excited. “I asked Mr. Jennings if I had to write on the whole war, and he said I could write what I wanted, so I wrote about the guys in the field and what it was like for them. Mr. Jennings said mine was the best report in the class.” Joey sounded proud. “Let‟s gallop across the field. Keep the horse under control and rein him in when you get to the other side. I‟ll watch from here and signal when you should start back,” Len instructed, and he watched as Joey took off like the wind. Len could see a few times when Joey didn‟t have full control, but he recovered and pulled the horse in. Len waved his cap, and Joey started back. This time, he kept the horse‟s speed down slightly, but the horse was definitely under his control.
“Very good. You corrected your problem on your own on the way back. Go do it again, and this time, remember to have fun and enjoy yourself,” Len encouraged him before watching as Joey and Sadie raced across the field. That was it. Joey kept her under control and looked like he was having the time of his life. It had been a long time since Len had felt like that, and there were days when he thought he never would again, but watching Joey, Len felt some of the teenager‟s happiness rub off. When Joey returned, Len took off, letting his horse sail with him across the field. Len felt his blood race and his heart pound as he pulled his horse up before turning around and racing back, the horse‟s hooves pounding the ground as Len rocked slightly in the saddle with the horse‟s movements. Pulling up and slowing, Len praised his horse as they walked to where Joey waited. “You‟re doing very well, Joey. You really don‟t need me to teach you much more. You control the horse well and know what you‟re doing. If you want to learn more, there are people who can teach you dressage or even jumping.” Joey shook his head as they pointed their horses back toward the farm. “I was just interested in learning to ride for fun,” Joey said as he fell in next to him on the trail. “Besides, I sort of liked spending time with you. I never knew my father, and you‟ve always sort of acted like I‟d hoped a dad would act.” Len had been feeling particularly emotional all day, and he swallowed hard, but didn‟t turn away. Joey looked so earnest and sincere. Len had hired Joey before Cliff passed away, and he‟d always felt a bit protective of him. He didn‟t know what to say, so he just smiled as they continued riding. On their return, Joey stepped down off Sadie and led her into the barn. Len followed, removing the saddle and bit before taking care of the tack and letting his horse out into the paddocks. “Have you ever ridden?” he heard Joey ask someone from one of the other stalls. “A horse?” Len heard Chris ask. “No. I rode a camel once, though. We were on leave in Saudi, and one of my buddies got it into his head that
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he wanted to try riding a camel. We found a guy who did that sort of thing, and he agreed to take us on a ride. They train the camel to kneel down and you climb on. Then they stand up, and you nearly fly over its neck if you aren‟t ready for it. Then once they start walking, you sway back and forth like crazy.” The other stall door opened and closed, and Len patted his horse on the neck before hoisting the saddle on his arm and grabbing the rest of the tack, leaving the stall and closing the door after him. He could still hear Chris and Joey talking. “Where do you sit?” Joey asked. “On the camel‟s hump, and if riding a horse is anything like riding a camel, I‟d rather sit in a foxhole in the middle of the desert for three days rather than do that again. My butt and legs ached for days after riding that thing. The captain was so mad at both of us, he nearly spit quarters. ‟Course, we did our jobs and got razzed by all the other guys because we were walking funny.” Chris laughed a deep, rich laugh, and Joey joined him with his higher-pitched, younger sound. “Actually, riding a horse is nothing like riding a camel,” Len interjected as he carried his saddle into the tack room. “Len‟s a great riding teacher,” Joey said, beaming, and Len saw him looking expectantly from him to Chris. At least Joey stopped short of volunteering Len to teach Chris to ride. Granted, the expectation was there; he could see it in Joey‟s eyes. “If you want to learn to ride, I could show you the basics pretty quickly,” Len found himself volunteering before he could think about it too much, his overall helpful nature overshadowing his wariness and trepidation. Almost as soon as the words crossed his lips, he regretted them, but he wasn‟t about to take them back. “We could go riding together,” Joey volunteered excitedly, a touch of hero worship in his voice. “I‟ll think about it,” Chris answered.
“Have you got those stalls finished?” Len asked Joey, and the boy hurried away to get to work, practically running to get the shovel and wheelbarrow. “He‟s a real nice kid,” Chris commented. “Yeah, he is,” Len agreed. Once again he could feel Chris‟s eyes on him, and Len had to tamp down the uncomfortable feelings and stop himself from leaving right away. Cliff hadn‟t been gone that long. He certainly shouldn‟t be feeling these things for another man. Part of him was sort of flattered by the way Chris looked at him sometimes, but it was too soon, way too soon. The other part wanted to get out of there and away from those looks, and that was the part that won. “Have you got work to do?” Chris‟s eyes blazed for just a second, and then the fire faded away. “Yeah, I‟d better get to it,” he answered, and Len used that opportunity to make his escape.
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Chapter 2
CHRIS VAUGHAN could not believe he was nervous about riding a horse. He was a Marine, for Christ‟s sake, and he‟d jumped out of airplanes and helicopters. He‟d felt enemy fire whizzing just over his head. Hell, he‟d been shot once and hit by shrapnel more than a few times, and he was still kicking and as strong as ever. So why did sitting on top of half a ton of animal bother him? Chris wished he knew, but it did. In the Corps, they‟d told him to face your fear head on, guns blazing, and that as a Marine, you ran toward the gunfire, not away from it. So Chris did what was so ingrained in him—he worked hard to push any thoughts of his first riding lesson with Len out of his mind, and let his muscles take over. “Morning, Chris,” Geoff said from behind him as Chris hauled bales of hay around the barn, one in each gloved hand. “Len tells me that you have a riding lesson today. That should be fun.” Chris grunted as he swung the bales into position near the horse stalls. “You aren‟t excited about it?” Geoff asked, pausing his walk through the barn as Chris shrugged. “Learning to ride is not a requirement. It‟s something that should be enjoyable.”
Chris turned away and adjusted the stacked bales, making sure they were ridiculously perfect. “I don‟t really like horses, at least not the thought of being on top of one.” Chris expected Geoff to laugh or at least snicker at him. Chris knew he was huge. His size and bulk intimidated most people when they first met him, that and the Marine stare he seemed to give people. He‟d spent too many years with a job that was to intimidate people to just turn that off. “Like I said, you don‟t have to learn to ride,” Geoff said seriously. “Marines run toward the bullets, not away from them,” Chris told Geoff, and he saw the much younger man smile. Chris was old enough to be Geoff‟s father, and he liked him. Geoff worked hard and was smart. He didn‟t ask people to do things he wasn‟t willing to do himself. In Chris‟s opinion, Geoff was a good, solid leader. “And there‟s no such thing as an ex-Marine.” Geoff smiled brightly. “That‟s the spirit. If you give the horse that same attitude, you‟ll do really well. They may be big, but handle them with masterful kindness and they‟ll do anything for you.” Geoff patted Chris‟s shoulder and began walking toward the back of the barn. Chris watched Geoff and then looked around the barn to make sure they were alone. “Can I ask you something?” Geoff stopped walking and turned around. “Of course.” Motioning toward the tack room, he saw a curiously amused look on Geoff‟s face. Chris opened the door, closing it behind them. “What‟s Len got against me? I work hard and don‟t chatter or waste time. I do my work and help the other guys with theirs. But he won‟t even look at me for more than two seconds, and when I run into him, he finds some excuse to get away. The only reason he offered to teach me to ride was because Joey sort of goaded him into it.” “You really should be asking Len.” Chris stepped closer, staring into Geoff‟s eyes. “I‟m asking you.”
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For a second Geoff‟s expression clouded, and then he laughed. “The intimidating look was great, but it won‟t get you what you want,” Geoff continued, chuckling, and Chris felt like a bit of a fool, which didn‟t sit well with him. “I‟m not laughing at you, exactly, Chris. I can‟t really help you because I don‟t know the answer to your question.” “Oh.” Geoff‟s chuckles died away, and his expression became serious. “I‟ve never seen him act that way around anyone before, I can tell you that, and something about you has him bothered. I have a theory, but it‟s only that, and if you breathe a word of this to anyone…,” Geoff cautioned. “Loose lips get people killed,” Chris repeated the phrase he‟d heard a million times; it was as much a part of his psyche as his own name. “Len and my dad were together twenty years. They raised me in an atmosphere of love and acceptance that few children ever experience. My dad died of cancer, with Len taking care of him and nursing him for the last months of his life. Not because he had to. He could have put Dad in a hospice or nursing facility, and I would have understood. He took care of Dad because he loved him more than life itself, and I don‟t think he could bear to let anyone else care for the man he loved.” Chris nodded his head slowly. “I think I understand.” Geoff shook his head. “I don‟t think you do. Len went through a lot to take care of Dad.” Chris saw Geoff swallow hard. “Len loved my dad enough and was strong enough to let him die with dignity and with as little pain as possible.” Chris felt a zing shoot up his spine. He‟d seen men die horrible deaths in the field, and he‟d had men beg him to kill them because they were in such agony. He knew the courage it took to do what Len had done. “What does this have to do with the fact that Len hates me?” Chris had been hated by people before, and he‟d tried for weeks to tell himself that it didn‟t matter, but this time it did. Everything he learned about Len told him he was a man of integrity and honor, someone Chris could really grow to like. People who hated for no reason tended to be small people
with small minds, and Len didn‟t appear to Chris to be that kind of man at all. “I don‟t think Len hates you.” Geoff gave him a weird, sort of knowing look that had Chris totally confused. “Maybe Len‟s avoiding you for another reason.” “I don‟t get it,” Chris said. Geoff‟s answer was to smile at him. “Chris, you‟re a smart man. I think you‟ll figure it out.” Geoff continued down the aisle toward the riding ring behind the barn, and Chris watched him go, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to figure out. “Hi, Chris,” Joey called as he walked into the barn, pushing a wheelbarrow toward one of the stalls. “Hey, Joey.” Chris lifted his hand in greeting before he finished getting the hay distributed. There was still work to be done in here, and then he wanted to get parts of the yard cleaned, and a few sections of paddock fence needed to be repaired before winter. Nearly all the other hands were out in the fields bringing in the harvest. The tractor came in for refueling and to change drivers and then went out again. It was never idle, and sometimes, if Chris listened, he could hear it rumbling on the wind as they worked from sunup to sundown to get everything brought in. Chris had helped with haying and loading grain into the silage elevators. Joey came out of the stall, his wheelbarrow nearly overflowing. “Len said he‟d be out soon for your lesson,” Joey said with a huge grin. “Maybe once you can go trail riding, we could go out together.” “I‟d like that,” Chris answered, and he saw the teenager beam before hurrying to empty his load. Chris walked through the barn to check that everything was in order, the way Geoff seemed to like it, before stepping outside to have a look at those fences. “Ready for your first lesson?” Len asked in a businesslike tone, walking across the yard as Chris stepped out of the barn. “Yes,” he answered simply before following Len back inside.
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“All right. The first thing we‟ll start with is getting the horse saddled. We‟re going to use Danny for your lesson. He‟s a touch more advanced than where I usually start new riders, but he‟s also a bit stronger and will be better able to handle your weight than some of the other horses,” Len explained as he opened the stall door. “There‟s nothing to be worried about. He‟s a really good horse, and I‟ll be with you the entire time.” Len patted the horse on the neck. “Go into the tack room and get Danny‟s bit, saddle, and blanket. I‟m going to look him over, and then we‟ll groom him and get him dressed.” “Okay.” Chris walked into the tack room and easily located what he needed, grabbing a currycomb and a brush before returning. After setting the tack aside, he handed Len the comb and brush. “Thank you,” Len said, taking the comb. “We‟ll start at the front and work our way back. He really likes this. Don‟t you, boy?” Len began running the comb over Danny‟s coat, loose hair and dirt coming away. “When you change sides, stay close and make sure he knows where you are. I keep my hand on him, like this. It helps soothe him, and then he isn‟t startled when I start combing again.” Len finished up, and Chris handed him the brush, taking the comb. “Flick the brush slightly; it helps get any dirt away from him.” Chris watched each thing Len did, hoping to learn for next time. Len handed Chris the brush and then worked the bit into Danny‟s mouth before taking Chris through the entire saddling procedure. Chris put the supplies away and returned to the stall as Len said, “Lead him out into the ring, and I‟ll show you how to mount.” Chris took the reins and turned the horse in the stall before leading him through the barn and out into the ring. Chris waited for Len, wondering just what he was doing. Danny snorted a few times, moving slightly, until Len walked into the ring. “How do I mount him?” Chris asked. “I‟ll take the reins. You always mount a horse from the left side as you‟re facing the horse. Put your right foot in the stirrup, and swing your left leg over his back,” Len explained, and Chris walked to where Len
indicated, sliding his foot into the stirrup. “Hold onto the pommel, and lift yourself into the saddle.” Chris did as Len instructed and found himself sitting on Danny‟s back, wondering just what in the hell he was doing up there. Len handed him the reins. “Grip them in both hands and relax. This is supposed to be enjoyable. You look like you‟re ready to bound off of him any second.” Len went through the basic instructions for controlling the horse, and Chris did his best to commit them to memory. “Nudge him with your heel, and Danny will start forward.” “Are you sure?” Chris asked as he heard Danny blow air out of his nose like he was getting impatient. “Go on. He‟s not going to run away with you. That‟s why we‟re in the ring.” Chris turned to look at Len, thinking he might be making fun of him, but he found Len looking at him intensely, and when Chris caught Len‟s eye, Len looked away as though he‟d been caught doing something he shouldn‟t. Chris nudged the side of the horse, and Danny began walking forward. At first, Chris‟s balance felt off, but he quickly recovered and followed Len‟s instructions as they circled the ring. “Good. Now use the reins to tell him to cross the ring.” “I‟ll try,” Chris said. He‟d sort of hoped that he‟d feel better once he was actually on the horse, but it reminded him an awful lot of being on top of that camel. At least there was less swaying. Chris pulled the reins lightly and nothing happened—Danny kept moving forward. Pulling a little more on the left, Chris got Danny to turn his head and begin to walk across the ring. “Is this okay?” Chris asked. “You‟re doing great,” Len encouraged him, and Chris relaxed a little bit in the saddle. The horse continued its walk across the ring, and Chris looked around, smiling to himself. He was actually on a horse, and it wasn‟t too bad. Once he reached the other side of the ring, Len called that he wanted him to turn the horse around and walk back. Chris pulled on the reins, and Danny turned around. “Are you having fun yet?” “Maybe,” Chris answered, and then the entire world tilted. Chris found himself looking at blue sky and clouds instead of the ring and horse.
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He tried to hang on, but he‟d already lost his grip on the reins, flailing his hands as he tried to grip something. With a whoosh, the air flew from his lungs as he hit the ground squarely on his back, and then everything went dark. Chris was back in Iraq, the enemy standing over him, looking down at him. Without thinking, he reached up, trying to find him to either push him away or to get his hands around his neck. But he couldn‟t breathe, and his arms would barely do what he wanted them to do. Finally, he reached for the man‟s shoulders, grabbing as hard as he could to inflict as much pain as possible, because if he was gonna die, this guy was going with him. “Chris, it‟s me, Len. Are you all right? Can you breathe?” The face shifted, and he saw Len, someone he recognized. Lowering his arms, he tried to remember that he was back home, on a farm. Oh yeah, he‟d just fallen off a horse. Chris‟s mind began to work slowly as he tried to get air into his lungs. “I‟ll… be… fine,” he managed to croak out. He knew what had happened, it wasn‟t the first time, but he bloody well hoped it would be the last. Breathing in a controlled manner, he got more and more air into his lungs. “Should I get you some help?” Len asked, his voice different from any time Chris had heard it before. It was then he noticed that Len was holding his hand gently, almost carefully. After a few more breaths, his mind cleared a little more, and he noticed the heat and the way Len‟s thumb softly stroked the skin near his knuckles. “No,” Chris answered. He was able to get a decent amount of air into his lungs and slowly he began to sit up. “I‟ll be fine.” “Did you hurt anything? I could call an ambulance. Should you be sitting up? What if you broke something?” Len was babbling a little, and Chris turned toward him. “I‟m okay. I just got the wind knocked out of me. That‟s all.” Chris sat on the ground, taking careful breaths, each one deeper than before. For a while, it felt as though his lungs had been completely deflated, and now
they felt as though they were filling again. “Give me a few minutes, and we‟ll get started again.” “You don‟t need to do this if you don‟t want to,” Len said, and Chris knew he was trying to be reassuring. “Yes, I do. No horse is going to get the better of me. You run toward the bullets, and today that bullet has a name: Danny.” Chris tried but failed to stifle a groan as he got to his feet. “Can I ask you something?” Len inquired, and Chris felt a hand on his arm, presumably to steady him. “You can ask anything you like.” Chris tested his back and did a quick inventory. Everything seemed to be working, and he didn‟t feel any unusual pain. “Where were you? You first looked at me like you were going to kill me.” Chris had to give Len credit, he didn‟t back away or act really scared when he asked the question. Most people backed away fast and stayed away once they‟d seen one of his “episodes.” “I was back in Iraq for a few seconds, and I thought you were the enemy. And just for the record, for a split second, I probably was trying to kill you.” Chris expected Len to back away, but he simply let go of his arm and went ahead to retrieve the horse that was standing beside the railings. Chris watched as he led the horse over to him. “Does that happen often?” “Not as much as it used to. When I wake up suddenly and don‟t immediately know where I am, I sometimes get confused. It doesn‟t last very long, and thankfully I‟ve never hurt anyone. I did fall out of bed once, landed on my ass on the floor because I thought I was trying to get away from some Iraqi fighters. Turned out it was a floor lamp.” Chris smiled, hoping to lighten things just a little, and to his relief Len did as well, and when Len smiled, Chris thought he heard a chuckle too. “Would you really have tried to kill me?” “No. My „episodes‟ don‟t last very long. Like I said, it was just for a second, and then I heard your voice and it brought me back to the present.
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I knew where I was and who you were.” Chris walked around to the side of the horse and mounted the way Len had told him earlier. “Now, let‟s continue with the riding lesson, and you,” Chris said as he patted Danny‟s neck, “you be nice or next time, I may think you‟re an enemy tank or something.” Danny bobbed his head a few times before Chris nudged him, and they began walking forward. To his surprise, his nervousness around horses seemed to have vanished. “You‟re looking more comfortable. What‟s that about?” Len asked after they had made a few rounds of the ring. “I figure I‟ve already fallen off, so what‟s the worst that could happen—I fall off again? Big deal,” Chris said as he pulled Danny to a stop. “Whatever you‟re thinking, don‟t answer that.” Chris smiled and saw Len return it. The man had a really nice smile, wide and sincere, that caused these little crinkles around his eyes. Chris liked it and he stared for a few seconds down at Len. He wanted to smack his forehead because he realized he‟d been a fool. Geoff was right. Len didn‟t hate him—he liked him. The realization hit Chris a bit like a defender crashing into him when he‟d played high school football. How could he have missed it? The answer was simple: he hadn‟t been looking for it. A relationship with anyone hadn‟t been on his mind at all. In the Marines, Chris had been known as a lone wolf, because off the job he‟d tended to stay away from the hangouts with the other guys. His career had been everything to him, and Chris had spent thirty years largely abiding by rules he didn‟t agree with but accepted because it was part of the job he loved. He had made an exception once, and he knew where that had gotten him. But that was a long time ago, and Chris wasn‟t in the Marines anymore. “I think that‟s enough for today,” Len called. “Danny knows who‟s boss now.” Len‟s voice held a hint of mirth that went straight to Chris‟s heart before heading south. Len‟s face lit up when he smiled. He almost always seemed so somber, and Chris thought it was good to see him smile. Walking Danny to where Len waited for them, he pulled back on the reins,
and Danny stopped right in front of Len, soaking up the attention as Len patted his neck. “I‟ve got him. Dismount and then lead him back to his stall. Do you think you can remove his saddle?” “Yes,” Chris answered once he was standing on the ground. Taking the reins from Len, he felt their hands brush slightly, and neither of them backed away. With a smile on his face, he and Danny began a slow walk back into the barn. Opening the stall door, Chris led Danny inside before closing it behind them. It took him a few minutes, but he got Danny‟s bit out of his mouth and the saddle off his back. Chris gave Danny a pat on the neck before leaving the stall and carrying the tack back to the tack room to put it away. Once he was done, Chris looked around for Len, but didn‟t see him anywhere. Not that he was surprised. Chris figured Len was still hurting, and any attraction he felt for someone else was going to cause some guilt as well as hurt, regardless of whether it was warranted or not. After putting everything away, Chris heard the tractor pull into the yard, and he headed outside to see what was happening. “Chris,” Lumpy called as he climbed down. “You can drive the tractor, can‟t you?” “Sure, Geoff showed me how to operate it a few days ago.” Lumpy began filling the tank from the fuel pump. “Then hop in, and I‟ll show you where we‟re working. They‟re calling for rain, and we need to get as much in as we can. Pete‟s using the tractor we borrowed from the Hendersons, and I could use a few hours‟ break.” Lumpy finished filling the tractor, and Chris could see he was walking a little stiffly. Lumpy climbed into the cab, and Chris followed up behind him. Lumpy had him drive, and they returned to the field, hooking up the grain hopper to the back. Once they were done, Lumpy went over how to operate the equipment. Chris had remembered and didn‟t really need Lumpy to explain things. He‟d driven everything from a tank to Jeeps in his career, and mechanical things tended to come naturally for him. “I think I‟ve got it,” Chris said. “Cool. I‟ll see you back at the farm in a few hours.”
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“How are you getting back?” Chris asked as he pulled the tractor to a stop. “Geoff will be by in a few minutes, and he‟ll pick me up.” Lumpy climbed out of the cab, and Chris made sure he was well away before engaging the machinery and moving the tractor forward. Chris watched as the stalks of corn disappeared into the front of the harvester. He knew that every bit of it would be used. Keeping an eye on the huge hopper he pulled behind him to make sure it didn‟t overfill, Chris drove and thought about Len, of all people. Chris had seen the hurt and confusion in the other man‟s eyes, and his first inclination was to leave him alone. But he‟d also seen a glimmer of hope, and that lifted Chris‟s own spirits. Len was someone he could grow to like, he knew that, and now that he thought he understood at least part of Len‟s attitude, it didn‟t hurt nearly as much. When the hopper filled, Chris drove to the silos and emptied the hopper into the elevator that blew the corn into the top of the silo. Then he returned to the field and continued harvesting. It was dark by the time everyone quit for the day. Geoff appeared pleased with the progress they‟d made, and even Len seemed more cheerful that usual. “The weather report said it looks like the rain is going to hold off until late tomorrow, so we might get everything in ahead of it,” Geoff said after sitting down at the table. Geoff had insisted that Chris join them for dinner, and he‟d been too tired and too hungry to argue. After eating, Chris said good night and drove to his small apartment. Unlocking the door, Chris flopped down into his chair, barely stopping to take off his coat. His body tired and his stomach full, he was almost ready to fall into bed when he heard a knock on his door. Getting up, he wondered who it could be, but the knocking grew more insistent, and he opened the door to see his sister, Anne, standing outside, scowling at him. “Don‟t you return any of your messages?” she asked as she barreled into the apartment. “I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.”
Chris looked at his answering machine and saw the blinking red light. “Sorry. I‟ve been really busy at the farm—it‟s harvest season,” Chris explained before sitting back in his chair and motioning Anne toward the sofa. “I don‟t know why you‟re working there instead of trying to get your business off the ground. You have great ideas that could really catch on if you‟d just get started.” Chris knew that Anne didn‟t mean to sound like she was harping on things. She was just concerned for him. “I‟m not ready yet. The farm is hard work, but it‟s also peaceful and rather quiet. It‟s what I need right now. I know you can‟t really understand, but I spent way too many years hiding part of who I am. At the farm, there‟s no need to do that, and it feels good,” Chris said contentedly. “I‟ll get the business going eventually. So why have you been calling?” “I don‟t need a reason to find out what my baby brother has been up to,” she answered, and Chris stared at her, figuring she‟d come out with the real reason pretty soon. “The boys are both away at college, and things are a little lonely, I guess. Dean is working a lot, and I spend too much time alone.” “Why don‟t you get a job? It‟ll get you out of the house, and you‟ll have your own money.” “Well, actually, that‟s sort of what I wanted to talk about. I went for an interview down at the bank, and they seemed interested, but I‟ll have to work Saturday mornings, and Dean isn‟t too keen on it.” She actually seemed nervous. Chris thought Dean was being a little too controlling, but he didn‟t tell her that. “What do you want to do?” Chris asked. “If they offer, I want to take it,” she said, unusually decisive. “Then do it,” Chris encouraged her with a smile, pleased that she was acting a little more independent. He knew it would be good for her to get out of the house for a while and begin to build her own life.
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The decision seemingly made, Anne sat back and relaxed on the sofa, some of the trepidation gone from her posture. “So when are you going to meet someone and settle down? It‟s not too late, you know.” This was a familiar topic whenever they got together. For years she‟d been asking him when he was going to get married. When Chris had told her he was gay, she changed her tune slightly, but the refrain was essentially the same. He‟d always taken it as her signal of acceptance. Chris debated saying anything to her about his suspicions about Len, but he needed a bit of advice, and he knew he could count on her. “Well, there is someone I sort of like.” God, why did that sound like he was still in high school? He was fifty years old and hardly a teenager. “So what‟s the problem?” she asked, and Chris saw her sit up a little straighter. Obviously he‟d captured her interest. “Tell me what‟s going on so I can help.” “I think Len sort of likes me.” “Len Parker? Didn‟t he just lose his partner?” She sounded sort of shocked. “About six months ago, he told me,” Chris answered. “Anyway, I think he may sort of like me, but feels guilty because he likes me. I know it‟s probably awfully soon for him, and I don‟t want to rush him or anything, but I think I kind of like him, I guess. But I could be wrong, and if I make some sort of move and he isn‟t interested, then I‟ll look like a fool.” God, now he was babbling. Chris stood up, squaring his shoulders like he would if he were going into battle. It made him feel a little more in control and much less like a blithering idiot. Anne rolled her eyes. “Heaven help me, a man looking like a fool. Most of the ones I know do that on a daily basis without even trying. So what is it you want to do?” “I don‟t know. I think maybe I should leave him alone and do nothing. He‟s obviously still grieving and hurting, and I wouldn‟t want to add to that,” Chris answered.
“That‟s very admirable, but what makes you think Len, who is getting over the loss of his lover of twenty years, is even interested? I mean, I‟m sure he hasn‟t actually said anything. So what leap of logic led you to this conclusion?” Now she was making fun of him. “Maybe we should drop this topic altogether. It‟s getting late, and I have to get up early tomorrow so I can be at the farm just after sunup so we can get the rest of the crops in.” Anne looked at her watch. “It‟s eight o‟clock. I know you‟re tired, but you‟re not an old man yet.” She obviously wasn‟t letting him off the hook. “So tell me about this leap of logic.” Chris sighed, knowing she wasn‟t going to let this go until he told her, so he might as well get it over with. He knew it was his own fault for bringing it up in the first place. “Len gave me a riding lesson this afternoon, and the horse threw me. When I came to, I had an „episode‟ and thought he was the enemy for a second. I‟m fine and so is he,” Chris added hastily when he saw the concerned look on Anne‟s face. “The thing is that when I realized it was Len, I felt him holding my hand, and it felt nice, and he seemed so concerned when he looked at me. I know I could be reading a lot more into this than there is, but no one has looked at me like that since Roy, and it felt sort of nice.” “So you want to find out if what you felt was just your imagination or not?” Anne asked, and Chris nodded. “Have you tried asking him? All right, that‟s too easy, and if he‟s confused, like you say, he may not tell you the truth.” “So I wait, I guess,” Chris supplied, and Anne shook her head with one of her “men” expressions, complete with an eye-roll. “Christopher Vaughan, you will do no such thing,” she snapped. “You simply need to get him to tell you.”
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Chapter 3
LEN came down the stairs in a pair of sweats and a robe. Everything seemed colder than normal this year. Peering outside, he expected to see snow on the ground, but it was still too early, although the way the weather had been acting, he wouldn‟t be surprised to see a significant snow soon. Thanksgiving was still a week away, but the farm was largely bedded down for the winter, thank God. The harvest had been good and had finished up a few weeks ago. Letting the drapes fall back into place, Len padded into the kitchen and stopped short. A small box sat on the kitchen table, right in front of the chair he usually occupied. There was only a note card with his name written on it in handwriting Len didn‟t recognize. They were always like this. He‟d received a package like this every few days for weeks, and it was always the same, a single piece of chocolate-covered toffee. Whoever this was had figured out his favorite. Len had grilled both Geoff and Eli, but both of them swore on their lives that they knew nothing about it. The little gifts always showed up early in the morning, and there was never anyone around at that time. They even showed up after he‟d been the one to go to bed last. It was a mystery, but Len had to admit it was a sweet one. “Morning, Dad,” Geoff said with a yawn as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Len saw him look toward the table. “Another one, huh?”
“Yes,” Len answered before stepping close to Geoff, “and if I find out you had anything to do with this….” “With what? Someone deciding they might be sweet enough on you to give you candy?” Geoff had this shit-eating grin on his face, and no matter how many times he denied it, Len knew that Geoff had an idea who was doing this. “Len, I really don‟t know who is doing this, but I suggest you enjoy it. Someone is definitely interested enough to make the effort.” “If I didn‟t know better, I‟d think I was being courted.” Len poured himself a mug of coffee before sitting at the table, gently pushing the small box back out of the way. “Why is that such a strange idea? Dad‟s been gone for a while now, and it‟s okay for you to move on with your life. I know that‟s what Dad would have wanted for both of us. Dad was always happiest when you were happy, and I think he‟d still be.” Geoff sipped from his mug as Eli wandered into the kitchen. After pouring himself some juice, Eli sat next to Geoff, both with their hands resting together on the table. If those two were in the same room, it was almost as though they couldn‟t bear not to touch each other. He and Cliff had had that, and Len knew that was a big part of what he missed. “I see you got a package,” Eli commented before leaning against Geoff‟s shoulder and closing his eyes. “What is that, the fourth one?” “Sixth,” Len answered, not that he was counting or anything. Eli finished his juice without opening his eyes. Setting the glass on the table, he got up and walked back through the house. Len knew without looking that he was on his way upstairs. “It‟s a cold one this morning.” “Yeah, it is,” Geoff agreed. “I‟m glad we got everything in a little early this year. The harvest was good, and even though the cold came early, the sheltered pastures are still open for grazing, so we‟ll be all right.” Geoff yawned before finishing his coffee. “You know….” Geoff made a grab for the box, but Len reached it first. “If you don‟t want them, you could give them to me.” Len glared at Geoff, who simply smiled back. “That‟s what I thought.” Geoff left the room, and Len sat quietly, trying to figure out who could be leaving these for him and what they wanted.
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Getting up, Len figured it was time to get to work. Winter or not, there was still plenty to get done, and lots of animals that needed to be taken care of. By the time Len stepped outside the back door, he heard the tractor start as the guys got started on the morning chores. Len walked to the barn and saw Chris hard at work in one of the stalls, with Joey already chattering excitedly. “Mom said I have to go with her to my Aunt June‟s for Thanksgiving,” Joey was saying while he worked. “I hate it whenever we go over there. She thinks she knows what‟s best for everyone and always makes a big deal about us being her poor relations.” “She actually says that?” Chris asked from the next stall, and Len began distributing hay to the horses as he listened. “No,” Joey admitted. “She says things like, „Would Joey like some of Sammy‟s jeans? He can‟t wear them anymore, but they‟ll fit Joey.‟ And whenever we leave, she gives my mom half the turkey. She says they have more than they can eat, but it‟s ‟cause she thinks Mom can‟t feed us or anything.” Len heard the shovel scrape extra loud on the concrete. “Her turkey‟s so dry, you could use the slices for hockey pucks.” “How about if I invite you and your mom to join us for Thanksgiving?” Len asked, and suddenly everything went quiet. “Are you serious?” Joey asked, poking his head over the stall. “Sure, though that doesn‟t mean your mother will say yes. But I‟ll call her later today,” Len promised, and Joey‟s face broke into a smile just before his head disappeared and the sound of shovel scraping began again. Len smiled to himself as he finished feeding and watering all the horses. He‟d let them into the pastures once the sun took some of the chill out of the air. Checking out the tack room, Len straightened it up before sitting at his small desk, trying to get his thoughts together so he could make the list of chores for the day. “That was a nice thing you did.” Len nearly jumped off the stool at the sound of Chris‟s voice. “Sorry. I didn‟t mean to startle you.”
“It‟s okay,” Len said, settling back to work, but he noticed that Chris was still standing close by. “I know what it‟s like to be treated as the poor relations, and that was a really nice thing to do,” Chris told him, and Len heard the shuffle of feet. Twisting around, he saw Chris leaving the room. “I knew how that felt as well.” Chris stopped and turned, so Len continued. “Like Joey, it was just my mom and me growing up, and we had some well-meaning relatives who seemed to want to help, but their help always seemed to come at the price of my mother‟s pride. I saw her swallow it more than once.” Len cleared his throat as he thought about his mother. “She always did her best for me.” “What did she think when you told her about you and Cliff?” Chris asked, and Len saw a softness in the other man‟s expression he hadn‟t seen very often. “She was always supportive about everything. My mother was amazing, and after Cliff and I got together, she mothered both of us.” Len sat still for a few minutes, thinking about the incredible woman who‟d raised him and given him everything she possibly could. “Was your mother proud of you for becoming a Marine?” Len asked, and he saw Chris‟s eyes harden for just a brief second. “My mother never understood me joining the Corps. She was a peace activist and thought I‟d betrayed her somehow by joining the military. I think she understood me being gay a lot easier than my decision to join the Marines. She came around eventually, but only to a degree.” “Did you ever regret your decision?” Pain shone in Chris‟s eyes for a moment. “Only once, but it had nothing to do with my mother. Being a Marine was as big a part of me as anything else in my life.” “Why didn‟t you stay?” Len asked. “When you‟re a Marine and you regret becoming one, even for a short while, then it‟s time to leave,” Chris said and then turned toward the door. “I‟d better get back to work.” Chris left the tack room in a hurry, and
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Len went back to his list of chores for the day, but he couldn‟t concentrate. The expression on Chris‟s face stayed with him. Whatever had happened seemed to be haunting Chris somehow, and Len figured something or someone had reached Chris‟s Marine heart and managed to hurt him. The thing that surprised Len was that the idea bothered him, and he wondered what or who could have hurt Chris. Giving up on his list, Len stood and wandered through the barn. The sun shone through the windows, and Len opened the barn doors, letting some of the horses outside. Chris was doing the same thing on the other side of the barn. Geoff and Eli returned from their morning ride, their horses‟ hooves clomping on the barn floor. “Breakfast in half an hour,” Eli called a few minutes later as he carried his saddle into the tack room. The work continued until the appointed time, and then everyone set aside their tools and headed to breakfast. Len went right into the bathroom to clean up, returning to the kitchen to find a vase of carnations and another small box sitting right at his place at the table. Len looked around at the others, but everyone seemed to be making a point of looking the other way, except Joey, who just appeared curious. “Twice in one day?” Joey asked, and Len nodded. “Someone must really like you.” Len nodded his agreement, but for the life of him he couldn‟t figure out who it could be. As Eli brought the food to the table, Len grilled each person around the table with his eyes, trying to see if one of them was going to crack. Regardless of who was leaving these gifts for him, Len knew that someone in the house had to be helping them. There was no other way. The back door opened and closed before Pete and Lumpy walked into the kitchen. Extra plates and chairs were added to the table as the two hands joined them. “What‟s all this?” Lumpy asked, pointing at the box and flowers. “Len‟s got a secret admirer,” Joey piped in, and the kid actually giggled. “You do?” Lumpy asked, and Len saw something he couldn‟t quite describe in the other man‟s eyes—Lumpy knew. Len was sure that Lumpy
knew whoever was doing this. “That‟s real nice,” Lumpy added as he reached for a stack of Eli‟s pancakes. The table became quiet, and Len saw people sharing looks, and he tried to figure out what they meant until he realized everyone was just having fun with him. “Bastards,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, and everyone around the table began to laugh. “Dad, enjoy it. Someone has gone to some effort to make you feel special. I‟m sure they‟ll make themselves known when they‟re ready,” Geoff said, and Len had to admit he was right. He also had to admit that he did wonder when the next box was going to show up, and if he were honest, he sort of looked forward to them. The normal table conversations began, and Len decided to take Geoff‟s advice, so after he finished his breakfast, he opened the small box, taking out the rich chocolate-covered toffee, eating it in small bites as he finished his coffee.
THANKSGIVING morning had Len up extra early. Chores still needed to be done as well as all the preparations for a large dinner, and this Thanksgiving was going to be a large gathering. In addition to his immediate family, Geoff had invited some of his aunts and uncles and their families, minus Geoff‟s Aunt Janelle, who was no longer welcome in the house. According to Geoff, she‟d antagonistically interfered in his life earlier in the year and nearly cost him his relationship with Eli. Joey and his mother were coming, as was Chris. The house was going to be very full. At first he had wanted a quiet day for his first Thanksgiving without Cliff, but now he was looking forward to having the house full of people. Dressing hastily, Len hurried outside to get a start on the chores. The animals needed to be fed and watered, regardless of the day. He‟d gotten a good start when the barn door opened and Eli hurried inside. “I‟ll take care of things in here if you want to get breakfast, and then I can help you with dinner.” Eli smiled at him strangely, and Len wondered what was going on.
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Then it hit him. “I take it there‟s something for me on the kitchen table?” Len had gotten used to the little gifts being left, and they always made him a little unsettled, but excited. He‟d come to accept that they were tokens of affection from someone. Len just wished whoever it was would make himself known. Regardless, he had to give whoever it was kudos for patience and perseverance. Eli grinned and nodded before getting to work, and Len left the barn, his steps quick and sure as he hurried toward the house, wondering just what it could be. Walking into the kitchen, Len stopped in his tracks when he saw the large, foil-wrapped chocolate turkey sitting at his place. At first Len began to laugh, but then he saw a card sitting beneath it, and the laughter died on his lips. Pulling out the envelope, Len opened the note. This was the first real note his admirer had left him. “I know you‟re wondering who I am. If you‟d like to find out, meet me in the riding ring at six o‟clock tonight.” The note was printed and not signed. Len didn‟t recognize the writing, but he found that he was very curious and a bit excited. Tucking the note into his pocket, Len got to work, trying not to think about it too much. “Morning, Dad,” Geoff called as he strode into the kitchen a half hour later, as Len was getting breakfast on the table. “I guess you got a Thanksgiving present.” Geoff picked up the turkey and then set it back on the table. “Do you need help getting dinner ready?” “Eli‟s finishing up the chores, and then after breakfast he‟s going to help me get everything ready. If you‟re heading out, would you let him know breakfast is ready?” “Absolutely,” Geoff said happily as he pulled on his coat before hurrying outside. Len finished getting breakfast ready, setting everything on the table, and waited for the others, but they seemed to be taking their time, so he sat down while everything was still hot and began to eat. Geoff and Eli came in and joined him, the three of them having a quiet breakfast. Len could not take his eyes off the turkey in front of his plate, wondering just what it represented. Yes, someone seemed to be trying to get his attention, and while it was flattering, Len wasn‟t so sure he was
ready. Guilt flared inside him once again, and he wondered what Cliff would think. Geoff had told him that Cliff would want him to be happy, and Len knew that was true. But he still wasn‟t sure if he was ready for someone else so quickly. “Dad.” Geoff‟s voice cut through his thoughts, and Len realized he‟d been sitting at the table doing nothing while the others had finished eating. “We have a few things to take care of in the barn. Once we‟re done, we‟ll both be in to help with dinner.” Len nodded and absently watched as they left the house. Standing up, Len walked into the living room and stood in front of the photograph of Cliff. “You left me way too soon, you know that?” Len said to the photograph, surprised a bit by the fact that he didn‟t feel like crying. Instead, Len sat in his chair, his eyes roving over all the photographs on the wall. He and Cliff had had a great life together that spanned twenty-plus years. Len smiled at the photograph of Geoff standing next to one of the steers he‟d raised for the fair, a huge smile on his face as he held the ribbon, Cliff standing behind his son looking as proud as any father could. That was the Cliff he wanted to remember always: happy and full of life. The living room wall was full of pictures of their life together, and there were multitudes more in his head. Yes, Cliff was gone and Len would always miss him, but maybe everyone was right and it was okay to move on. Len wasn‟t sure he was really ready, but maybe it was time to find out. Len sat in his chair until he heard Geoff‟s and Eli‟s voices in the kitchen. Getting up, he began clearing the table before helping with the dishes and starting work on the huge Thanksgiving meal. Len, Geoff, and Eli worked for much of the morning getting everything prepped. The turkey was in the oven in plenty of time, and between the three of them, they had everything ready to go before their guests began to arrive. Soon the house was full of guests and family, talking and laughing. Some of the younger family members disappeared into the barn, and Len knew they had probably saddled horses and were taking the opportunity for a ride.
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Getting dinner ready was easy once his sisters-in-law arrived. They both pitched in to help and soon everything was ready, and everyone gathered in the dining room around the huge family table. When Len carried the turkey into the dining room, he found the seat at the head of the table empty. Len nearly dropped the bird when he realized that Geoff was giving him the seat that Cliff had always occupied. Setting the platter on the table, he almost asked Geoff to take that place, but after swallowing hard, he realized this was a measure of Geoff‟s love and decided to let it be. Len sat down, and everyone joined hands, taking turns explaining what each of them was thankful for, and Len blinked back tears when it was Geoff‟s turn. “I was always lucky growing up because I didn‟t have one dad, I had two, and I still do. One of them may not be with us physically this year, but I can feel his presence in our happiness and joy. And as for the other, Len wasn‟t my father, but for as long as I can remember, he was my dad. So this year, I‟m thankful for my entire family. I may have lost one member this year, but I gained many more.” Geoff kissed the back of Eli‟s hand, and Len swallowed hard, trying not to burst into tears because he knew he was next. “This year I lost my Cliff. In the end it was a blessing, but that doesn‟t make it any less hard on any of us.” Len swallowed as the tears threatened once again. “I‟m thankful that the family he helped build is here to celebrate on this holiday of family.” He tilted his gaze upward. “Cliff, I know you‟re looking down and watching, pain free, probably asking God to pass the beer and change the channel. We all love you and miss you, but we‟re together and that‟s what counts.” Len wiped his eyes, and thankfully, the next person took their turn. Once everyone had spoken, Len carved the turkey. Dinner was a veritable feast, and very soon, the dining room filled with happy conversation, laughter, and even a few stories. “I‟ll never forget the time Cliff decided that he wanted Geoff to learn to hunt. Cliff took him out behind the barn and set up targets. Geoff could
hit the bulls-eye almost every time. Cliff was so impressed that the next fall he decided to take his little sharpshooter hunting with him.” Len felt himself smile as he told the story. “He got Geoff a little hunter outfit and an orange cap. I have a picture of them around here somewhere. They looked adorable, father and son, going out to shoot themselves some meat.” Len looked over at Geoff, who looked slightly embarrassed. “I let them go and stayed home. I figured they could use some time to themselves. Geoff had to have been about twelve at the time. They left really early in the morning, and I expected them to be out all day.” Everyone around the table had stopped eating, listening intently to Len‟s story. Some had heard it before, but most hadn‟t. “About ten o‟clock, I heard the truck pull into the driveway and saw Cliff get out of the truck, swearing a blue streak. Geoff followed behind him, keeping up with his father, an equally angry look on his face. I ran out to see what had happened, figuring they‟d had some sort of fight. It turned out they had. You see, when Cliff said they were going hunting, he assumed that Geoff understood that he‟d have to actually shoot the deer.” Len paused for effect and everyone laughed. “Apparently, they got into the woods, and the two of them got settled in their blind when a huge buck walked right in front of them. Cliff told Geoff to take aim and shoot it, and Geoff refused. Cliff actually told me that Geoff crossed his arms over his chest and yelled at the deer in front of them that his father was a „Bambi killer‟, and told it to run, which of course it did. Cliff was so angry I thought he was going to spit quarters. And Geoff refused to speak to his father, and only referred to Cliff as „Bambi killer‟ for weeks afterwards. Come to think about it, I don‟t remember Cliff ever going hunting again after that.” Everyone around the table laughed until they were holding their sides. “I like to think I reformed him,” Geoff commented once the laughter had begun to die down. “I think it was closer to traumatization, but it had the same effect. After that, whenever Cliff pulled out his camouflage gear, Geoff would start calling Cliff „Bambi killer‟, and it sort of took the fun out of it for him.” The laughter started all over again.
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It felt good for Len to be able to tell these stories and to share some of the man he loved with others. Ever since Cliff‟s death, he‟d kept his memories inside, but he realized as he watched the others laugh that by talking about Cliff, he was sharing a part of him with everyone, and it made Cliff seem closer again. The other thing Len realized was that he could tell these stories without choking up and even let the story make him happy. Once the laughter died down again, someone else took up the mantle and began telling a story. Len half listened as he let himself remember Cliff when they were young, feeling the warmth of those memories surround him. After dinner, Len turned on the television in the family room for the men who wanted to watch football, and in the living room, he made sure there were plenty of games and munchies for everyone else, while Len and two of Cliff‟s sisters cleaned up. Then they joined the others in the living room. Geoff‟s Aunt Vicki disappeared into the family room, returning with a game he‟d forgotten, and the non-football watchers played an Uno tournament in the living room, their exuberance giving the television watchers a run for their money in the noise category. Chris came up as the winner and happily shared the winner‟s bowl of cheese curls around the table. As the afternoon wore on, Len felt himself getting excited as he checked the clock every few minutes. He swore the clock had stopped running at one point, but played the game with everyone else until Vicki began to gather her brood and others said their good-byes. Hugs were shared all around as the holiday drew to a close. Joey and his mother said their good-nights as well, with Joey giving Len a huge hug. “Thank you, Len,” he said softly enough that only he could hear. “I‟m glad you could both come,” Len said as he patted Joey on the back before packing them off with leftover turkey and a smile. Chris said his good-bye as well, shaking hands with everyone, including Len, before putting on his coat. Once the house was quiet, Len settled into his chair, looking at the clock yet again.
“What‟s going on with the time? You‟ve been watching the clock all afternoon,” Geoff asked, and Len sat back in his chair, trying to look relaxed. “Nothing,” Len answered, unwilling to discuss the note with him or anyone else. Len didn‟t know what he felt about this secret-admirer business, but he was intrigued. The thought had occurred to him that this whole thing was some sort of joke, and if it was, he wanted to dull the punch line if possible. And if it wasn‟t, then he wanted the moment to be private. Turning his gaze purposely away from the clock, he let the others go do what they wanted, and rested for a while. A few minutes before six, unable to contain either his excitement or his curiosity, Len got up and put on his coat. He didn‟t say anything to anyone else before leaving the house and walking across the yard to the barn. Sliding open the door, he noticed that nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Walking down the center aisle, his footsteps rang on the concrete, and as he approached the back door to the barn, he noticed light coming through the cracks around the door. Len pushed it open and stepped outside, back into the cold night air. The flood lights above the door shone onto the empty riding ring, and Len looked around but didn‟t see anyone. Looking again to make sure he hadn‟t missed anything, Len stepped outside and waited to see if anyone appeared, but he could see no one. Eventually, the cold began to make its way through his clothing, and with a sigh, Len stepped back into the barn, turning off the flood lights. Immediately, lights turned on around the ring, and Len stopped with the door half open, gaping at the ring. Someone had strung small white lights all around the ring, and the fence danced with light. Len stepped back outside, closing the door behind him. Standing just outside the barn, he stared at first and then began to look around. Movement on the far side of the ring caught his eye, and Len saw someone climb the fence and then walk toward him. As he got closer, Len saw Chris carrying a small bunch of flowers in his hand. Len blinked and shook his head, unable to believe who he saw. Yes, Len had tried denying
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to himself that he liked Chris, but he hadn‟t thought he‟d been so obvious that the other man could pick up on it. “Len, these are for you,” Chris said, standing on the other side of the fence, “but you need to come over here to get them.” “You did all this?” Len asked as he carefully scaled the split rails before stepping down into the ring. “You sent me all those little packages and left me the flowers?” “I had a helper, but I will not tell you who it was. But yeah, I sent you the chocolates.” Chris handed him the small bouquet when Len stood just in front of him. “Why?” Len asked. “Because I sort of figured out that you were being short with me because you might like me, and I figured the best way to get your attention was with a little mystery. I also figured if I asked you about it up front, you‟d probably deny it, so I decided to show you instead,” Chris explained softly before continuing. “If you don‟t like me, I can understand that, and I won‟t pressure you or ever bring this up again.” “It‟s not that I don‟t like you,” Len began, not sure how to explain what he was feeling. “I understand about Cliff and about grief, probably more than you know. And I‟m not suggesting that I or anyone can or should replace Cliff, or that you should forget him, because Cliff is a part of your life and he always will be. I‟m sort of hoping that there will be room in your life for someone else.” “Chris,” Len said softly, “I don‟t know if I‟m ready yet.” Len clutched the flowers Chris had given him, their scent reaching his nose in the still night air. “You don‟t have to rush into anything. But I wanted you to know.” Chris made a slight motion with his hand, and Len heard music—soft country music—drift in from a dark corner of the barn. Then the barn door opened slightly and closed again, and Len realized Chris‟s accomplice was making his escape. “Will you dance with me?”
Len swallowed, not sure what he should do. Standing still, he felt Chris take his hand, then he felt another touch his waist, and they were moving together, an old, classic country step for two old country boys. Len peered into Chris‟s now-dark eyes and saw glimmers of the reflected lights. Chris made no move to pull him closer, but Len could feel his gaze on him the entire time, and he had to admit that he liked it. The song ended, and Len thought Chris would let him go, but another started and Chris kept dancing with him in the center of the ring, surrounded by twinkling lights. Two songs became three, and then four, as they continued dancing. Len felt every pulse of Chris‟s heart through where their hands touched, rough hands holding each other, both hardened by work and life. The music faded, and Len expected another song, but all he heard was silence and the sounds of the night. “Good night, Len,” Chris said, and Len peered around and saw that Chris had danced him to the gate. Stepping back, Chris opened the gate to let Len out. “Thank you for the dance,” he said gallantly, and Len thought Chris might try to kiss him—he was even bracing for it. But instead, Chris took his hand and lightly kissed the back of it, lips touching his knuckles. Len walked to the door in a bit of a daze as the lights went out and the illusion around him faded. He walked through the barn, heading toward the house. Inside, he found the kitchen dark and heard the television playing low in another room. Len found Geoff and Eli curled together on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn on the table, two pairs of eyes looking at him expectantly. Len said nothing before sinking into his chair. No one moved or spoke for a while, and eventually Eli leaned close to Geoff before getting up and leaving the room without a word. “Are you disappointed?” Geoff asked, but Len barely heard him, he was so deep in thought. “What? No.” “Then what‟s got you rattled? Is it Dad?” Geoff asked, and Len nodded slowly.
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“Yes. No. I don‟t really know,” Len babbled before shutting himself up. “You know, Dad, maybe you should take your own advice.” Len snapped his head around to where Geoff sat, staring at him thoughtfully. “I believe your words were, „Tomorrow, I suggest you let that boy know his efforts have been noticed and that you‟re interested, because if you‟re not, he can bloody well court me.‟” Geoff stood up, “You‟ve been courted, and quite nicely, I think. Now you need to figure out what it is you want. But if you want my two cents, don‟t let him get away.” Geoff left the room, probably to find Eli, leaving Len alone with his thoughts.
Chapter 4
CHRIS woke easily before dark in the familiar surroundings of his own bedroom. Thirty years in the Marines meant he could literally sleep on his feet and wake at a moment‟s notice. He just wished that sometimes he wouldn‟t become confused and think he was someplace else in those few waking seconds. Getting out of bed, Chris walked naked to the bathroom, the cool air raising goose bumps that he hardly noticed. He cleaned up before dressing in work clothes and heading out toward the farm. The first lasting snow of the season covered the ground, and a few of the houses he passed had put up Christmas lights, their glow coloring the mid-December snow. Chris had given Len his space since their encounter on Thanksgiving, determined to let the other man come to him, but now Chris was starting to second-guess that tactic. He‟d left Len a few pieces of chocolate just to let him know that he was still interested, but he hadn‟t said anything. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do, but Len knew Chris was interested and that Chris understood some of what he was going through. Yet something inside Chris, probably his Marine training, told him that he simply needed to be patient and let Len make up his own mind. It was hard, he knew that, but nothing worthwhile was easy. Pulling into the farmyard, Chris got out of the truck, closing the door gently and walking right into the barn. The warm scent of horses and hay
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mixed with all the other barn smells. Grabbing the wheelbarrow, he began spot-cleaning the stalls they‟d cleaned over the last few days. Once he was done, Chris watered the horses and began putting fresh hay in the mangers. He was nearly done when he heard the barn door open and Len‟s voice ring through the barn. “Chris.” “Morning, Len,” he called as he placed the last bit of hay in the mangers. Turning toward Len‟s voice, Chris found himself face to face with the other man. The dark circles under his eyes told Chris that Len hadn‟t slept well. “Is everything okay?” “I think I need to talk with you,” Len answered, and Chris nodded slowly. Chris knew by the tone of Len‟s voice that he‟d made a decision, and he didn‟t feel optimistic. Maybe it was too soon for Len, and he should have kept his mouth and his heart closed. “Let me put the tools away.” Chris returned the pitchfork and wheelbarrow to their places before returning to where Len waited near Danny‟s stall, stroking the horse‟s nose. “I know I‟ve made you wait for some sort of answer, and I don‟t know if I was being fair to you or not. I‟ve tried to decide the right thing to do, and every time I get close, the answer seems to move farther away,” Len said, his voice sounding very deliberate, almost like what he wanted to say had been rehearsed. Chris knew this wasn‟t good news. “There is no right or wrong as long as you‟re doing what your heart tells you to do,” Chris said, trying to be understanding. “If you‟re not ready yet, I can accept that, and I promise not to pressure you.” “I know you won‟t, because you haven‟t, and for that I‟m grateful. I keep thinking about what Cliff would want me to do, and then what would make Geoff happy.” “Len, what will make you happy? Cliff is gone, and Geoff is a grown man with a partner of his own. What is it that Len wants?” Chris realized he was pushing and that he might have pressed too far, but he was speaking from the heart, and he hoped Len understood that. “What do you want?” he added in a whisper. He had seen things that would make most
men faint or fill their pants, and he‟d always faced them with his eyes forward, running toward the action without a second thought. But as he looked into Len‟s eyes, he could see an answer that he was hoping he wouldn‟t, and it made his stomach hitch nervously. Chris was not a jittery person in any way, but the look in Len‟s eyes made him jumpy. Len stared back at him as though he were thinking. “I don‟t know,” Len said, and Chris saw a change in his expression. “I‟m not sure what my feelings are. I like you, Chris, I really do. And as you guessed, I was hiding it from you because I was attracted to you.” “Has that attraction gone away?” Chris asked, and Len shook his head. Taking a chance, Chris leaned closer to Len, parting his lips slightly. He didn‟t close his eyes because he needed to see Len‟s reaction. Half waiting for Len to pull away, Chris moved closer still, and Len‟s eyes drifted closed. Len didn‟t move toward him, but he didn‟t pull away, either, and Chris moved close enough that he could feel the heat from Len‟s lips on his, even if they hadn‟t actually touched yet. Then he was kissing Len, softly and tenderly, trying not to scare the other man off. Part of Chris‟s mind told him to take what he wanted, possess the man with everything he had, but Chris tamped the Marine portion of his personality down. At first, Len didn‟t kiss back, their lips just touching, but then Chris felt Len‟s lips move, returning the kiss, and his heart soared. He‟d been right. All the waiting, anticipation, and doubt had been worth it, more than worth it. Chris‟s body zinged with excitement, and adrenaline coursed through his veins as exhilaration like none he‟d experienced in months flowed through him. Len moaned softly into the kiss, and Chris deepened it slightly, his hand resting on Len‟s shoulder. Then he pulled back, tugging lightly on Len‟s lower lip before letting it spring back into place. Looking deeply into Len‟s eyes, Chris stepped back slightly and waited. But Len did nothing except breathe heavily, a single finger touching his lip. “I‟d like to take you to dinner,” Chris said, and Len nodded slowly. “This evening at six thirty?” Len nodded again. “Is that a yes?”
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“Yes,” Len answered, and Chris got a smile. Not wanting to press his luck, and figuring that others would be coming into the barn at any time, Chris stepped back before giving himself a “what the hell” moment and stealing a kiss before going back to work. The rest of the day was a bit of a blur for Chris. Breakfast and lunch went by without him remembering much about them other than the fact that Geoff teased him during both meals as though he knew about his date with Len. As the sun began to set, Chris hurried home. Jumping into the shower, he cleaned up and dried himself before standing in front of his open closet in his boxers, wondering what in the hell he was going to wear. Reaching for the phone, he called Anne. “I have a date tonight, and I‟m not sure what I should wear. I want to look nice, but not too fancy.” All he heard was Anne laughing on the other end of the phone. “You sound like a teenager. Just pick out a pair of dress pants and a nice shirt. Don‟t overthink everything,” Anne said, laughing. “Thanks a lot. Life was sure easier in the Marines. They had rules for everything.” “Yeah,” Anne said, still chuckling. “But out here you have to think for yourself. And if you want this guy, then you need to let him see the real you, and that isn‟t in a uniform. Although I‟m told those types of things can be popular,” Anne teased. “Now get dressed and have fun tonight. Don‟t worry about anything and just be yourself. That‟s what he‟ll like more than anything else. I‟m willing to bet he isn‟t going to notice your clothes as much as the man in them.” “Thanks, Anne,” Chris said, feeling somewhat better. “You‟re welcome. By the way, we‟re expecting you for Christmas dinner. When we were at Dean‟s mother‟s for Thanksgiving, she tried to convince us to have Christmas dinner at her place, but I can only stand my mother-in-law in small doses, so we‟ll be at our house. You know you would have been welcome for Thanksgiving.” “I know, but I can only take Gladys in even smaller doses than you. Don‟t worry, I‟ll be there for Christmas.” Chris said his good-byes before returning to his closet and taking Anne‟s advice. Fifteen minutes later,
dressed in nice clothes and highly polished shoes, Chris put on his best coat and walked out to his truck. He wished he had a nicer car to pick Len up in, but the truck would have to do. Chris drove to the farm, trying to keep his insides from becoming his outsides. Pulling into the yard, Chris parked close to the house and walked around to the front door. If he was picking Len up for a date, he wanted to do it right. Standing on the front stoop, Chris rang the bell and waited for the door to open. “Chris,” Eli said with a smile as he held the door open. “Len is still upstairs getting dressed. Have a seat on the sofa.” Chris stepped inside, and instead of sitting, waited in the vestibule, watching up the stairs until he heard Len. Smiling, he watched as Len walked down the stairs to meet him. Chris had never seen Len in anything but farm clothes before. Tonight he wore gray slacks with a light blue shirt. “You look nice,” Len said, and Chris could almost feel Len‟s gaze on him. “So do you,” Chris said, looking Len over as well. He wanted to kiss him, but wasn‟t sure how Len would feel about that in front of Geoff. Instead, he waited for Len to put on his coat, and then they left, walking to Chris‟s truck. “What did you have in mind for tonight?” Len asked him once they were in the truck and the heater began pumping out warm air. “I thought we‟d go to dinner and then decide,” Chris answered as he navigated the truck down the country roads and then into Ludington. “I made reservations at Scotty‟s,” Chris told Len before pulling into the parking lot. Thankfully, since it was a weeknight, the restaurant wasn‟t very busy, and they got a nice table by the windows. The server filled their water glasses and took drink orders. Len took a gulp of his water before settling back in his chair. “Until this morning the only other man I‟d ever kissed was Cliff,” Len said nervously. “And after twenty years, I didn‟t expect there to be someone else.”
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“Do you regret it?” Chris asked, reaching for his own water glass. “No, I just didn‟t expect it,” Len admitted. “My years with Cliff were the best of my life, and quite frankly, when he died, I figured that portion of my life was over. I didn‟t expect to meet someone again, but when Geoff hired you, I saw something I‟d only ever seen with Cliff, and I guess I was a little afraid of it.” “Why?” “I‟m not really sure, but I think it might have been that if I could see that in someone else so soon after Cliff died, then maybe what Cliff and I had wasn‟t so special.” Chris didn‟t know quite how to react. “What you and Cliff had was special, and sometimes you get lucky and lightning strikes twice. At least, I‟d like to think it can strike twice, because I‟m hoping it has. I‟ve never had much luck with guys,” Chris told him, and then their server returned with their drinks and took their orders before leaving again. “For my entire career, being gay and in the military just didn‟t mix. So I had to choose, and I chose the Corps.” “That seems like a lonely life,” Len said. “It was and it wasn‟t. The men you serve with become your family. You protect them and they protect you. I never had to think about who had my back, because dozens of men did, just like I had theirs,” Chris explained. It was hard for someone who‟d never been in the Corps to understand. “I‟m not talking about that. Some of the best times I ever had with Cliff were after the farm was put to bed for the night, and we‟d curl together on the sofa, just the two of us, together. We didn‟t have to be doing anything other than watching television or reading. Or the cold winter nights when Cliff held me, and I knew that there was no one else in the world that Cliff would rather be with than me. Your buddies may have been there for you, and I don‟t doubt they were, but there was no one to share the darkness with. That‟s what I mean by lonely.”
Chris shifted in his chair. “There was one person—his name was Roy.” He took a sip from his beer and set the glass on the table. “I‟ve only ever told my sister about him, and he‟s the only person I was willing to put before the Corps. I met him about five years ago, and I could tell he was a kindred spirit right off. I was between overseas tours and so was he. One night we‟d had too much to drink, and I found out for the first time in my life what it meant to have someone of my own to love.” Chris took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat, keeping his voice steady. He didn‟t like telling this story for so many reasons, but Len deserved to know, and instinctively, Chris knew he‟d understand. “As I said, we were both between rotations and were stationed at Quantico. At first we started hanging out. We were both old-timers with so many young bucks around that we became fast friends. One night we were feeling no pain and ended up in bed together. I know it sounds lame, and I know it was just an excuse for both of us. We‟d been circling each other for weeks, and it was just a matter of time.” “Did he regret it the next morning?” Len asked, and Chris shook his head, letting the conversation pause when the server brought their salads. “No. Neither of us did. I think we were both relieved that we could talk about it. We spent the next six months together. We had to be careful, but I had an apartment off base, and we basically shared it. Those were the best six months of my life, and when we were rotated overseas again, he and I were rotated together, by some miracle of fate. We couldn‟t do anything, but he was there and that was enough.” Len reached across the table, touching his hand, and Chris almost instinctively pulled it back, but didn‟t. This was the first time Len had initiated contact between them, and it was nice. “What happened to him?” “We were working in the Green Zone in Baghdad. You had to be vigilant, but it should have been relatively safe. He and I were riding from our quarters to work at Iraqi Security Headquarters. We‟d been assigned to help train the Iraqi security and police forces.” Chris blinked because he could still see and feel that day in his mind, the bright sun reflecting off every surface, the heat in the air radiating off everything, palm trees
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standing straight and tall in the still air. “All I heard was the ting of broken glass, and then Roy slumped over against me.” Chris stopped himself as he set down his fork, no longer hungry. He could see the scene in his mind, but he could not describe it to Len or anyone, especially not over dinner. “He was dead before the Humvee we were riding in jerked to a stop.” Len‟s fork clinked on his plate, and Chris saw his dinner companion put his hand over his mouth. “He was killed right in front of you?” Len sounded choked up, and Chris realized his story had brought back memories for Len. “Yes,” Chris answered. “I got to say good-bye to him in the morgue before he was shipped home. I finished my last tour and retired. I loved the Corps, but I couldn‟t do it anymore.” Len nodded his understanding slowly, but said nothing. “After I got back, I wasn‟t sure what I wanted to do. I have an idea for a water-systems business, and I know I can make a go of it, but I needed some peace for a while, and I heard the farm was looking for help.” “That‟s what Geoff said. How long before you‟ll get your business started?” Len picked up his fork again, and Chris did the same, finishing his salad as the server brought their entrées. “I don‟t know, maybe in the spring. I like the farm and the people there. Since I‟ve worked there, the PTSD has lessened, and I‟ve felt more relaxed and comfortable in my skin. You know what I mean?” “I think so. I‟ve lived on the farm for a lot of my adult life, and yes, it‟s hard work, but it‟s also been very rewarding. Geoff runs it like a business, and he‟s helped make it very successful.” “So you don‟t own any of the farm?” Chris was surprised that his partner hadn‟t left him something. “It was in Cliff‟s family long before he met me, and he talked about leaving me part of it, but I wouldn‟t let him. The farm belonged to Geoff from the day he was born, and I never had any interest in taking it from him. For twenty years, Cliff insisted on paying me a salary that I never really needed, so I have more than I‟ll ever need. And Geoff still pays me.
I have a home, and I‟m surrounded by people who love me—I don‟t need anything more than that.” “You‟re quite a man, Len Parker,” Chris said softly. He‟d known Len was someone he could care for, but that kind of strength of character was unusual and something Chris had rarely seen, even in the Corps. “You would have made an unbelievable Marine.” Len smiled. “I know that‟s quite a compliment.” “That‟s how I meant it, because to be a Marine, you have to have heart first. They can teach you anything, but pride, loyalty, determination, courage, and sheer guts all come from the heart. Everything else can be learned. My first sergeant told us the first day of boot camp that Marines were born, not made, and he was here to see which of our mothers had given birth to one of the select few.” Chris ate a bite of his steak, chewing slowly as Len ate as well. They‟d been talking so much that they hadn‟t actually eaten a lot. “I somehow doubt I have ever been part of the select few of anything. I‟m a fairly unremarkable person.” Len ate a bite of his chicken, and Chris could feel as well as see his gaze on him. “You are one of the select few as far as I‟m concerned. It took me over twenty-five years to let myself open up to Roy, and you haven‟t taken nearly so long. That‟s pretty exclusive company in my book.” Chris smiled and hoped Len understood what he meant, because he realized that might have sounded really conceited, and he didn‟t mean it to be. “I mean….” “I know what you meant, and that‟s pretty wonderful. I guess after Cliff, anyone I see would have to be pretty „select‟ too.” They continued eating and talking. Chris tried to keep the conversation light and pleasant. Len told him about Geoff as a youngster and his first swear words. “You have to be kidding,” Chris responded. “Nope. Geoff couldn‟t have been more than two, and he ran across the yard toward Cliff and me. Now, Geoff couldn‟t talk really clearly at that point, but when he fell, the „son of a bitch‟ came across loud and
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clear. Cliff was horrified, but we both knew where Geoff had heard it, and that cleaned up Cliff‟s language in a big hurry.” They both chuckled at the image. “Cliff was your first, right?” Chris asked, and Len nodded slowly. “He was my first everything. I had a crush on him in high school, and he was my first kiss. It happened behind the barn. Say, did I ever tell you about Cliff‟s sister?” And that launched Len into another story that had them both laughing. By the time they were done with dinner, Chris‟s sides hurt, and he could barely finish the food on his plate. Chris told Len about his first and only tattoo. “Some of the guys and I were drunk after making it through the Crucible, and I guess we all dared each other to get a tattoo. We actually went to this place near the base.” “What did you get?” “The Marine emblem on my shoulder,” Chris answered before adding, “Thankfully, nothing too outlandish, unlike Benny, who when the tattoo artist asked him what he wanted, he just said his name, but he was a little slurred, so the artist did what he thought he wanted and Benny ended up with „Bunny‟ tattooed on his butt.” Chris laughed, and Len looked dubious. “I‟m serious. He actually showed me in a rage after he sobered up.” Len laughed, and the server took away their plates before bringing dessert menus. Chris looked over the menu and asked Len if anything looked good, but both of them were already full, so they passed on dessert. Chris asked for the check, and after paying, they left the restaurant, walking through the light snow to the truck. “I love nights like this,” Len said as he turned his face upward, toward the slowly drifting flakes. “The snow makes everything look fresh and clean.” “I guess. But we‟ve both lived here long enough to know it rarely stays like this.” All it took for a gentle snow to turn into a blizzard was wind, and this close to Lake Michigan, it could go from calm to blustery in seconds.
“I know. We should get back to the farm,” Len said, and Chris tamped down his disappointment. Getting in the truck, Chris waited for Len before starting the engine and driving toward home. He‟d hoped that their evening would last longer, but he wasn‟t going to push. As he pulled the truck into the farmyard, the wind began to pick up, and the light snow swirled in the headlights just before Chris switched them off. Getting out and closing his door, Chris waited for Len. He was surprised when Len walked toward the barn instead of the house. “I have to check on the horses,” Len said, and Chris wondered why, but followed Len inside anyway. The scent of hay and horse surrounded them as Chris pulled the barn door closed behind them. There was nothing amiss. All the horses were eating contentedly, making their usual sounds as they shifted in their stalls or stamped their hooves. “I‟m sorry I cut our evening short.” Len turned, and as Chris saw Len look into his eyes, he felt his breath catch just like it had the first time he‟d laid eyes on Len. He‟d ignored those feelings for months, thinking that there was no way Len would ever return them. Stepping closer, Chris paid no attention to the horses or anything else in the barn as he took Len into his arms and brought their mouths together in a deep, searing kiss. He wasn‟t trying to rush Len into anything, but Chris would be damned if he wasn‟t going to show Len just how he felt, and he knew that the best way to do that wasn‟t with words but with actions. Holding Len tight against his body, Chris kissed him insistently, feeling Len return the kiss, making little sounds in his throat that spurred Chris on. Len‟s little sounds increased as Chris slipped his tongue past Len‟s lips, gently exploring the other man‟s mouth before easing the kiss and then pulling away. Len‟s chest heaved, and Chris smiled at his just-kissed look. Chris wasn‟t sure if he should end the evening or kiss Len again. He wanted the other man desperately and debated asking him to come back to his apartment, but stopped himself. Instead, he kissed Len again, hard and possessively, taking charge of the kiss like he took charge on the battlefield.
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Easing the kiss, Chris backed away, reminding his body that Len needed and deserved tenderness and love rather than a conqueror. The small noises started again, and Chris felt himself smile slightly into the kiss, his fingers carding through Len‟s soft hair. He wondered what Len‟s skin would feel like against his own, how his body would taste when Chris licked along his neck. Steadying himself, Chris once again pulled back from the kiss and felt himself heaving for breath. God, he wanted to kiss Len forever and never let him go. Now that he could think again, Chris heard the barn doors rattle slightly as the wind continued to pick up. He hated saying good night, but if he didn‟t leave, Chris knew he would never get home. Furthermore, he was about two seconds from doing a brilliant imitation of a caveman, and that wouldn‟t do either of them any good. “I should say good night,” Chris said softly, and he waited. He expected Len to say good-bye, but what he got was Len stepping closer to him before moving to kiss him for the first time. “Drive safely, and please call me when you get home,” Len told him breathily once they‟d broken their kiss, which had led to another and another. “I will,” Chris said before making himself turn and walk toward the barn door. “Are you sure this is what you want? I‟m just an old farmhand with a heart that‟s finally starting to heal. I somehow doubt I‟m all that exciting.” Len stood near Danny‟s stall, the gelding nuzzling Len‟s pocket for a treat. “And I‟m just an old Marine,” Chris answered, “who‟s looked for years and finally found exactly what he wants. And I have to warn you, when a Marine finds something he wants, he goes after it and doesn‟t let go easily. We may wait and wait for what we want, but when we get it, we hold on and protect it.” Chris walked back toward Len. “And just for the record, I know exactly what I want. I‟ll take things as slow as you like and wait as long as you want, but I‟m not going anywhere unless you tell me to go.” Chris met Len‟s eyes with a no-nonsense stare that he hoped told the other man he meant every word. Then he turned toward the barn door,
reaching for the handle before looking back to where Len stared at him with a smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes, and Chris smiled, huge and bright, knowing that look was for him.
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Epilogue
CHRISTMAS—his first Christmas without Cliff. Len had spent much of the past year having days like this. The first Fourth of July, the first Thanksgiving, his first birthday without Cliff waking him by singing in that off-key voice that never failed to make him smile. He expected to feel terribly depressed, but instead hope had begun to take root in his spirit, and Len began to feel as though it was truly time to stop grieving. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” Geoff called as Len descended the stairs, drawn by the smell of coffee. “Where‟s Eli?” “He‟s in the kitchen,” Geoff answered, almost unable to contain his excitement. “Is everything ready?” Len asked, and Geoff nodded as Eli joined them. The three of them settled around the tree, exchanging their gifts. Eli‟s were beautifully simple items he‟d made himself for everyone. Geoff‟s seemed very thoughtful as well, but Len had had a great deal of trouble selecting his gifts, so he went with something from the heart and decided to send them away for an entire weekend together. The last gift to open was Geoff‟s to Eli, who could hardly believe it when Geoff
presented him with Tiger, the foal that Eli had helped bring into the world the previous spring. Len got up and left the room to finish the breakfast Geoff had started, leaving the two youngsters to say their thank-yous without an audience. Once he‟d gotten the food ready, the three of them ate relatively quietly, with Eli and Geoff gazing at each other like the lovebirds they were. Once he‟d finished eating, Len began work on the holiday dinner as Geoff‟s aunts and their families began to arrive. The women promptly kicked him out of the kitchen, and Len joined the men in front of the television. Dinner was nice, if a little subdued, and while he was resting, letting the massive amount of food digest, the phone rang. “Dad, it‟s for you,” Geoff said with a smile as he handed it to him. “Hello,” Len answered. “Hi, it‟s me. I just got home from my sister‟s and wanted to say Merry Christmas.” Chris‟s voice sounded happy and content. Len couldn‟t have stopped his smile if he tried. “Merry Christmas to you too.” “Did you get everything you wanted?” Chris asked. “Almost,” Len answered as Geoff‟s Aunt Mari leaned close to him to say good-bye. “I know what would make the day perfect, though.” “You do, huh? Then maybe you need to come over and tell me about it,” Chris told him, and Len could hear the smile in his voice. “I‟ll see you in a little while.” Chris hung up, and Len pressed the button to close the line before grabbing his coat. Len saw Geoff watch him go with a smile and a wave, and in ten minutes, Len was knocking softly on Chris‟s door. “That was fast,” Chris said as he opened the door before tugging Len inside and into his arms, the door closing behind him as Chris‟s lips met his in a deep, searing kiss. “Merry Christmas.” Len, with the small gift he‟d brought with him still clutched in his hand, took a deep breath and smiled before handing it to Chris, who
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placed it under the tree alongside another wrapped package. Len took off his coat, and Chris hung it up before joining him on the sofa. The television was blessedly quiet, and neither of them missed it in the least, especially not when the kissing and holding began. Len had no idea how long they sat together on Christmas night, touching, talking, and kissing. For the longest time, they simply sat together and talked of nothing and everything in quiet, low tones, as though there was a bubble of peace and quiet around them that neither of them was willing to pierce. Eventually, they shared their gifts for each other, ripping open the paper like children, smiling at what each package held before saying thank you with a kiss. “I guess it‟s getting late, and I have to work in the morning,” Chris said when he heard the clock on the wall chime midnight. Len nodded and stood up, taking a step toward the coat closet before turning to look at Chris. Instead of getting his coat, Len extended his hand and watched as Chris stared at him. Then he smiled and got up as well. “Are you sure?” Len nodded. “Yes,” he said as Chris‟s hand slid into his, holding tight, his fingers sliding between Len‟s. “Merry Christmas, Len,” Chris told him in a whisper before kissing him and then walking with him toward the bedroom.
About the Author
ANDREW GREY grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master‟s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew‟s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing). He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world‟s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Visit Andrew‟s web site at http://www.andrewgreybooks.com and blog at http://andrewgreybooks.livejournal.com/. E-mail him at
[email protected].
Also by ANDREW GREY
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http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
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Copyright
Love Means… Healing ©Copyright Andrew Grey, 2011 Published by Dreamspinner Press 382 NE 191st Street #88329 Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors‟ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Catt Ford This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com Released in the United States of America November 2011 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-219-0
